


Neon Signs

by almostjulie



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostjulie/pseuds/almostjulie
Summary: Wilson's afraid the whole world is staring at him -- or the whole hospital, at least.





	Neon Signs

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to LJ in 2007. A few light revisions have been made. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, here, or on [tumblr](https://starshipsandhighseas.tumblr.com/).

It started not all that differently from a typical night, when Wilson invited himself over to watch the game. During the seventh inning stretch, House decided that the pizza Wilson had brought with him wasn't payment enough for the space he was occupying on the couch. Wilson made a joke about sexual favors and found himself pressed awkwardly back into the cushion, the arm of the couch digging uncomfortably against his ribs, House's tongue making itself at home in his mouth. Some part of his mind realized that this was probably even more uncomfortable for House, and so he pushed _House_ back and straddled his hips. 

It wasn't a bad place to be.

The next day, he wore the stubble burn like a scarlet letter and hid in his office most of the day, sure anyone he interacted with would _know_. He had plenty of paperwork to keep him busy, and when that ran out he made up some more. He checked espn’s website to find out who won the game. He answered referral requests from other doctors. 

He didn't visit Diagnostics. 

It wasn't House he was afraid of, it was himself around House. The prospect of polite chatter with the Fellows while House smirked in the background was unusually daunting as well, the prospect of adding anything meaningful to the differential even more so. 

Wilson couldn't avoid his clinic obligations or his patient consults, however. They weren't as bad as he feared; either everyone was too tactful to say anything, or the redness wasn't as noticeable as he thought. Mrs. Patterson (fifty-seven, ovarian cancer) stared at him a little longer than was comfortable, and Wilson breathed a sigh of relief when she left his office. 

He was steps away from out the door -- moments away from thinking he'd made it through the day -- when Cuddy stopped him with a reminder that departmental budgets were due at the end of the week. When she looked up from the file she was holding, her monologue faltered and she frowned in concentration at the lower half of his face.

Wilson's left hand itched to rub his chin; he shoved it in his pocket. His right hand betrayed him and swiped over his lips. Cuddy's eyes flashed with victory and dawning realization. "See you tomorrow, Dr. Wilson. I think I'll go make sure House gets his paperwork in, too. I suspect he may have been distracted lately."

He felt heat rising in his face, but Cuddy mercifully turned on her heel. She may have gotten the truth from him, but House was the one she was going to torment. He'd hear it from House later, he was sure. He was struck with the possibility that House might seek revenge for spilling a secret he wasn't exactly sure _was_ a secret. After all, given the opportunity and the right mood, House would likely reveal the newest aspect of their relationship to anyone in earshot for the shock value alone. 

Wilson showed up at work the next day with a hickey on his neck, House's revenge fulfilled. Wilson spent as much of his day in Diagnostics as possible and figured if everyone was going to know anyway, he might as well be there to see it when it happened.


End file.
